Through The Scarlet Eyes
by AzuDaiFTW
Summary: A vampire looks back on the best days of his life...in third person. The mind behind the "fanged freaks". Prequel to Oblivion, a few minor spoilers, but who cares? Done in NotePad so text formatting sucks, I would use Word but it is just SO annoying.
1. The Prison

I've done it. I've managed to fuse drama with a pinch of game humor to create...crap! I'm a GENUIS! Or not...Yeah. Probably not.

This is my second fanfic in total (my old one was deleted) and very nooby. No flaming. Criticism I can work on is great. I am told I make things go too fast.

Disclaimer: I don't own Oblivion. But I own one copy of it. XD

If anything in this fanfic is inaccurate or plain wrong, I don't much care. It's not the correctness, it's the story that counts. Although that also sucks. .

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It was a horribly warm day again for the hooded, robed figure, sleeping uncomfortably on the shabby bed belonging to the city's innkeeper. At least, it did, before she was fatally wounded in an "incident" involving a dagger, a poison, and 6x Sneak attack damage bonus.

He awaited sundown, when the city would sleep again, and he could rise to hunt once more.

-16 hours later-

With a stiff back, he groaned and rose to a stand, rubbing the sleep from his scarlet eyes.  
He took a swig of his favourite wine - Surilie - to wake himself up faster. Then he strapped his favourite enchanted longsword, Bloodsucker - glass with a strong Absorb Health enchantment, his trusty ebony arrows, and the Eye of Sithis, along with a couple of chameleon rings he'd picked up through his travels. Then after much decision, he equipped Hunter's Sight.

Now fully prepared, he exited the inn sneakily in order to avoid the guards - he had over 14000 septims on his head. Not that this was something he couldn't pay, it's just he was saving for a new house so that he didn't have to kill innkeepers all the time.

He glanced left - no one. Right - a guard walking in the opposite direction. Coast was clear.

He advanced through the streets towards the nearest house he could find, belonging to Reynald Jemane. A five-tumbler lock was no match for the Skeleton Key and the door was open in a matter of minutes.

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The room was dimly lit by a fire burning in the main room. According to Hunter's Sight, Jemane was asleep in the second room upstairs. The sleek vampire maneuvred effortlessly to the door and opened it silently.  
The door glided back revealing a fancy room - a soft bed, candlesticks, a large dresser, cupboards, a dog, a table with food, a - WHAT?

Growling menacingly, evidently able to see him, the dog moved into an atacking stance and barked loudly. Jemane was instantly awakened and alerted.

"Get out of here before I call the guards!"

The pale-skinned level 38 decided not to heed his words. 'How tough can one Breton be?' he thought.

He drew his sword and slashed viciously at the dog, killing it instantly.

That was the last straw for Jemane. He picked up a warhammer and began to swing.

The fanged receiver weighed his chances and decided to run, but not before quickly throwing a fireball at his attacker, knocking him back a few feet.

"By the Nine Divines! Assault! Assault!"

This was rather strange, seeing as Jemane had technically attacked first. He decided not to argue, however, and ran for his life.

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The minute he was outside a familiar Imperial scowling face stared at him. He knew he was busted now and was just dipping into his pocket to fish out the necessary gold when -

"Feeding time is over, vampire! Go back to the grave that spawned you!"

Of course. Under new law, the penalty for being a fully-fledged vampire was death. He tried to protest but was grabbed by four strong soldiers and hauled off to the castle.

-8 days later-

He awoke in a groggy cell and looked around. There were no other prisoners near him, no alive ones anyway. His unfortunate cellmate lay bruised, beaten, and quite certainly dead beside him, with two deep piercings in the side of his neck. That had been the feast of a lifetime.

Even Hunter's Sight could only locate the disease-ridden rats scurrying in the sewers below. 'What I wouldn't give to bite one..' he thought as his stomach snarled against his starved and bony ribs.

At this rate he thought his execution day would never come when a small pink silhouette appeared in the corner of his eye. He darted his vision immediately in its direction and heard a faint rustling of robes. The shapeless blur grew bigger as the person it belonged to drew closer. He tensed, readying his body for anything, and the locks on his cell clicked open.

"Who are you?" he called.

"Shh! They might hear me!"

The figure moved into focusable vision as Hunter's Sight wore off. It was a short Bosmer like himself, except instead of being clad in prisoner's uniform,  
he was dressed head-to-toe in a blood-red robe, complete with hood.

"Hear you? I'm surprised they haven't SEEN you!"

"Are you poking fun at my uniform? The Master will not be happy!"

"Master? I'll have you know I'm the most important-"

"Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say. Here."

The elf held out a bundle of items.

"This is what I found in a chest out front. Is it yours?"

He had everything the guards had "confiscated" from him in his arms, minus a few beers and wines. (hintedy hint hint).

"Yeah, it's all mine. Thanks!"

He ate some bread and cheese greedily and chugged a good five pints of ale (though, oddly, not getting drunk).

"Anything I can do to help a family member!"

The elf smiled and held up his hand. Resting on his ring finger was, unsurprisingly, a decorated ring. But not just any ring -

"That's a Black Band!" he exclaimed through a mouthful of rotten strawberry. "You must be-"

"Thrangor. Top Executioner for the Dark Brotherhood."

He also bore a brownish amulet and had a short, curved dagger sheathed at his belt.

"Then why aren't you wearing your Shrouded Armour?"

"I prefer these robes. They aren't as magical, but they are comfier and easier to cast spells in. You haven't given me your name yet, brother."

"Bregor," he responded. "Listener for the Dark Brotherhood."

Thrangor's eyes widened. He knelt and bowed his golden-blonde head.

"Forgive me, revered one! I did not recognise you without your robes!"

Bregor put said robes on and equipped all the necessary articles.

"Stand, underling. If you can help me out of this prison, you will become my new Silencer."

The elf looked absolutely awestruck. He was lost for words, but his gratitude was shown through his look of pure joy.

Then, without warning, his body flew across the room and slumped, dead, at the wall. A silver arrow penetrated his skull and blood trickled from the wound.  
Bregor followed the path of flight to find the bowman: a particularly furious Imperial Guard, with another arrow already drawn and pointed at Bregor's eye.  
Bregor used his amazing Acrobatics to side-roll to safety as the arrow whizzed past him and clanged into the wall. By the time he had stood up again, he had his own bow strung with the arrow that had killed Thrangor, and within one second the guard was hit. His body glowed green as it smashed into the opposite cell door.

Bregor smirked, put away his bow, took any and all valuables from both corpses, and walked out of the cell, out of the prison, and out of the Imperial City without another disturbance.

"..Owned." he thought contentedly.

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There we are, one chapter all bright and sparkly and finished! If you don't like the names, I will consider changing them. I took them from a book I have about Oblivion. If you don't like the story, please don't bother saying unless there is something fundamentally wrong with it OR something I can correct.

If you DO like the story, YAY!

And even if you don't have anything useful to say, just review so that I can see that you've read it. Next chapter will be weird. Word of warning. 


	2. Changes

Hi all. New chap. Bregor has escaped. Summarise much?

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Bregor sat down on the pavement of the Green Road. He had been travelling for four hours and was in dire need of a rest. His feet were warm and tired, although, thanks to the tailor-made Black Hand robes, not blistered.

He opened his backpack and took out his equipment. Some weapons were smeared and a few pieces of armour were worn.

He got out some gems and restored the power of every weapon. Then he carefully repaired and polished them - they were his pride and joy.

A collection of tiny red mushrooms crept into his peripheral vision. They were dotted with blue spots and surrounded by spiky ferns. Bregor's stomach growled again, so he cleared the ferns with a quick, weak fireball, and grabbed three mushroom heads. He wolfed them down - they tasted like manure, but were very filling.

After an hour or so's rest and equipment-checkup, he collected his things, stood up, and moved on. The moon and stars shone and sparkled upon his withered,  
pale face. He licked the air; it was cool and embracing, and made him lust for midnight battle.

Bregor scanned the local map and found a bandit's camp close by. He followed the column of smoke to find a deserted campsite.

Deserted, that is, except for-

"Oh for the love of Talos..."

"WOOF!"

Another dog, albeit a much friendlier and smiley dog, was staring up at him with a drooling mouth and empty, brainless eyes. Bregor was disgusted.

"Get out of my way, you filthy, mangy, wolf-like mutt!"

When the dog just stared vacantly, Bregor drew his bow and slotted an arrow expertly into the string.

"You have 5 seconds to go away."

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Bregor sighed and loosed the arrow. He had hoped to never kill another dog again. It was not as satisfying to take a canine life than it was to take a humanoid's.

THUD

Bregor blinked. Did his eyes deceive him? The arrow had hit the dog exactly where he had aimed it - between the eyes. The tip was inside its brain. And yet... it lived. It acted as though nothing had happened. Bregor was thinking maybe Kynareth had intervened-

"Animal cruelty! ANIMAL CRUELTY! Guard your budgerigars!"

Okay...that was definitely out of line. Maybe it was the strawberry. Bregor turned to see-

"Such violence!" cried a three-headed bandit, towering 3 feet above the tiny elf. Bregor's jaw dropped as the world began to shimmer and dissolve...

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"So you mean he just LEFT?!"

An enraged Jailor was staring his comrades in the eyes. Never before had a prisoner escaped his clutches - especially not a condemned one. He was determined to locate the fugitive and put him down for good.

"Well, sir..you see...he did have help.."

"From WHO?"

The body of the mysterious assistant in question was revealed at this point by the meek, young Imperial guard. The Jailor was shocked and, if possible,  
FURTHER enraged to find that the only one they could interrogate was dead.

"Who is the imbecile who killed this elf? I want to know NOW!"

The body of the imbecile in question was produced. He had one wound, a deep hole in his chest where an arrow had struck. It went as far as his heart,  
which, upon closer inspection, was dark and horribly-coloured.

"Poison too..." muttered the Jailor. "How long has the prisoner been gone?"

"Uhm..around four hours now, sir."

The Jailor did some slow calculations in his head.

"Four hours...at an average walking speed of about 3 mph...he should be.."

"Nine miles away, sir," piped up a particularly thick soldier.

THUMP!

The soldier recoiled, dazed by the blow.

"I knew that! I was lost in thought, is all..."

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"MISSION BEGINS IN SIXTY SECONDS."

Bregor stood, now completely and utterly confused, at the spawn point of Dustbowl. He held a shotgun in his hands and had no idea how to use it.

"Uhhh..."

He got out his bow, put the gun in place of the arrow, and fired it.  
It traveled next-to-nowhere, and upon hitting the ground, backfired at his leg.

"AHHHW!" Bregor yelled in agony. "This wretched device is the most painful thing that has EVER hit me!"

He drank a couple of potions to ease it a bit and massaged his wounded leg.

"MISSION BEGINS IN TEN SECONDS."

'Mission? What mission? I'm the Listener, I don't get missions anymore'  
thought Bregor. He looked down and noticed that his robes were suddenly blue in colour.

"FIVE. FOUR. THREE. TWO."

"Wait! I'm not ready!"

"ONE."

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Yes, geniuses. TF2. But what will the guards do now? And why is Bregor always so hostile towards dogs? Find out, in the next sleep-inducing chapter of...this crappy story! 


	3. Dustbowl

I don't know why I bother to update at all. So far as I can tell, NO ONE READS THIS!  
Whether this is due to the rubbish title, rubbish description, or basically rubbish story,  
I don't I would, if only someone would REVIEW!

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The Captain of the Imperial Watch shivered discreetly. She had been up searching all night,  
and her armour was not a very good insulator. She downed a bottle of ale to keep herself awake and warm.

'Somewhere,' she thought, 'somewhere there's a 15,000 Septim reward just waiting for me. I could go into early retirement...'

A bush nearby rustled. The Captain paused; her eyes darted to the offending strawberry bush.

Rustle..

Rustle..

SNARL.

An enormous lion leapt out of the bush, headed straight for the Captain's face. She yelled and blocked it just in time. The lion staggered back, regaining its strength for another pounce.

But the Captain was ready this time. She hid behind her shield and when the lion jumped, she thrust with her sword. It penetrated the lion's skull through his mouth (a bit like on Harry Potter 2) and the lion died instantly, its brains now scrambled by the blade of the sword.

Captain Renault cleaned her sword, and set off again.

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An alarm sounded. Bregor ran forward, up some stairs and through a gate. He found sandy terrain and wooden huts. Nobody seemed to be around.

"HELLO?!"

His cry echoed twice and no response was heard. Bregor gave up and looked around. A big hut was in front of him and he decided to check it out. Maybe there was a friend inside. Or maybe it was another Dark Brotherhood sanctuary. He hoped so.

He entered through the large door and found a glowing red circle on the floor. It bemused him,  
and he thought it might be a trap. He laid his shotgun down on it and took two steps away.

Silence..

He picked up the shotgun and stood directly on the centre of the circle. Something made a fizzling noise and he jumped. When no darts, hammers, maces, or any other form of trap activated,  
he stood still, completely confused.

The circle changed colour to blue.

"TIME HAS BEEN ADDED."

Bregor wandered out of the hut onto a railroad track, examining his shotgun carefully - and being sure to avoid the painful end. There was a lever-like part that moved in one dimension; he pulled it all the way and-

BANG.

The painful end went off and a hole was made in the wall. Bregor jumped back in shock. He decided not to touch it again.

He turned a corner and found a very large man dressed in red and holding the most immense piece of machinery he had ever seen.

"YOU ARE SO SMALL! IS FUNNY TO ME!" the man laughed, activating his minigun.

WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Bregor panicked. This man's clothes were the same colour as the circle he had just changed.  
Maybe he was angry. Bregor was about to run away, when he found a small, blunt, metal tool in his pocket. It was black and looked like something a carpenter might use. Being the evil bastard he was, he decided to hit the big man with it. He swung it back and struck the man sideways.

CRITICAL HIT! appeared above his head. The large man screamed in pain and clutched his broken arm.  
Bregor smirked. He had always been a bit of a sadist. He raised the tool again and smashed it into the man's head. Blood spurted everywhere and he fell dead.

'He reminded me of that dog' Bregor thought.

CRAPPY FLASHBACK TIME!

A six-year-old Bregor ran around his neighbourhood, chasing his friends and pretending to kill them. Ardaline in particular was difficult to catch - her tall stature made her a fast runner.  
Shugak never agreed that he was dead, arguing 'if you had really done that, I'd still be alive.'

He turned a big corner, chasing Wirfor, and found her being ripped to pieces by an enormous dog.

It was jet-black, had the sharpest, most vicious teeth anyone had ever seen, and had devil-red eyes. It looked up when it saw Bregor, and snarled menacingly. It dropped its meal and ran for him.

Bregor's eyes widened and he was paralyzed by terror. He didn't run, he didn't fight. He just stood there and waited to be slaughtered.

A shadow flew past it and a sickening stabbing noise was heard. The dog stopped in its tracks, its black fur now tainted with a horrible yet attractive dark green tinge, and slumped to one side, life seeping out of the wound in its skull.

"Oh my god...that poor girl. Are you ok?"

Bregor blinked. "Who are you?"

The man drew himself up to full height. He was dressed in enticing, dark armour. "I am a Silencer"  
he said simply. "From the Dark Brotherhood. I can tell you are interested."

Bregor was awestruck. "Yes! I've always heard of a secret assassin's guild but I never thought I would meet a member! Thank you so much for saving my life, by the way," he added.

"The Dark Brotherhood will watch you always. When you are old enough to commit murder, we will invite you in. Until then, my child."

He vanished.

CRAPPY FLASHBACK OVER!

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There. Third chapter. If anyone out there reads this and wants it to continue, PLEASE REVIEW! 


	4. Back to Reality

Enjoy. Or don't. Whatever. XP

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Bregor stepped over the large corpse and continued to walk through the big new world he was in.  
There was a tunnel in front of him - at first he was wary of a surprise attack, but figured that with his new, powerful weapons, he was ready for anything.

He turned left in the tunnel, then right, and found a man who looked a lot like a Redguard, although tougher and covered in rounded things. He was wearing the same blue colour as Bregor.

"Do you know the way to Cyrodiil?" he asked the man.

The man wordlessly pointed in the direction of the circle. Bregor, who by now was very suspicious,  
took his advice cautiously. He did not like the way the man hid his right hand behind his back.

He was just about to enter the hut with the circle when a gloved hand, blood-red, silenced his mouth.  
The cold steel of a small blade found its way into Bregor's spine and he sank, in agony, to his knees,  
the words "CRITICAL HIT!!" rising from his pounding skull. Through his hazy eyes he looked up to see the masked face of a man smoking a cigarette.

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Bregor awoke and sat up in a rush, digging a painful pebble out of his back. He threw his flimsy bedcovers off his naked body to find that he was not alone. He had been sharing a bedroll with...oh.

A man. Not just any man. A big, burly, tough Nord. Bregor suddenly felt a strange taste in his mouth,  
and terror as he realised where it may have originated. Bregor then peered over the man and saw, to his even greater horror, that he had also slept with a WOLF.

He felt disgusted and quickly got up and collected all his stuff from the corner of the large tent.  
He drew a small, Daedric dagger and slit the man's throat, and then punched the wolf so hard its nose broke. Then, for good measure, he ignited the entire tent with a Flame Tempest once he got outside.  
Aftewards he brushed his hands and dived into the river to wash the smell of gay oral sex off him.

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Captain Renault opened her eyes. She had slept - if one could call laying prone with monetary images flashing through one's head sleeping - rather uncomfortably. There was a mug of hot water and an apple by her bed; she consumed them quickly, eager to search some more.

Once dressed and downstairs, she thanked the inkeeper again and tossed him an extra coin, and then exited the Aleswell Inn. It was four in the morning by now, and the Captain inhaled the rising sunlight with a sense of victory filling her bones.

What a pity, then, that her target was on the other side of the province.

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Bregor, still shocked and horrified, surfaced and dressed. He chose to equip a poisoned Ebony Claymore - he was not in a good mood at all today - and set off down the road. By his geographical knowledge of the water currents, he was somewhere in the south of Cyrodiil, probably closer to Bravil than to Leyawiin.

"Back to work, then," he decided "no rest for the wicked."

He came across no trouble getting to Bravil (he was actually closer than he thought) and even the guards had no problem with letting him right in - news traveled rather leisurely these days, since Bregor killed all the messengers. He approached the Night Mother's statue and got within two feet of her before his honed reflexes told him to stop, which he did. An arrow flew past his face, just barely scratching his nose, at a speed even Bregor was impressed by. He wheeled about in the direction of the sender, but saw only a flash of red robes and a green swirl.

"Illusion, eh?" thought Bregor. "No matter."

Bregor's eyes faded purple as Hunter's Sight took effect. The environment around him tinged blueish-purple,  
his eyes darted around looking for the tell-tale pink fuzz that would be his next victim, but he found it not. All he could find, in fact, was a note, fluttering in the breeze.

"If you are reading this, you have survived the assault and therefore passed the first test" the note read.  
"Meet with us behind the Great Chapel of Mara at 2 AM tomorrow."

Bregor was initially suspicious - the last time someone had asked him to meet them behind a chapel, he had ended up killing a lot of people. The man had been a psychopath, so Bregor had killed him too. On the other hand, he liked killing lots of people, so he decided to go through with it.  
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There ya go. Chap 4. Like it? Tell me! Don't like it? Tell me! Got a new cat? TELL ME! I'M SO LONELY!! 


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